What Draco Malfoy Never Said Out Loud
by ButterflySoft2010
Summary: Draco Malfoy did not want to join his parents. He did not want to join the Dark Lord. But he did. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**I got this from the movie, so**

**SPOILER ALERT!**

**If you haven't seen DH part 2, you need to. It's fantastic. And lately I've been on a Dramione spin when it comes to reading fanfics, so I've seen a nic(er) side of Draco Malfoy. It made me think a lot as I was watching this movie.**

**This is a two shot. First part is Draco's thought process when Voldemort calls for the staff and students of Hogwarts to join his ranks. The second part will be my own idea of what I wanted to happen. I've started seeing him in a different light over the last couple of books/movies, so that's partly where the second part is coming from. I've seen the move twice, but obviously I don't have every detail down so if you notice an error, I'm sorry but I couldn't help it.**

**Anyway, enjoy! And to my LWD fans, I haven't forgotten about Lying on the Roof. I just don't know what I'm doing next for it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the characters or the plot. J.K. Rowling owns all of that. **

He stood there, among his fellow classmates. He hoped against hope that neither the Dark Lord nor his parents would spot him, but he was one of the taller students there. Between his height and his white hair, he stood out.

Potter was dead, which meant the Dark Lord had won. What that meant for him and his parents, he had no idea. But he knew one thing: It wouldn't be pretty. Which is why he was trying to blend in so he wouldn't be spotted.

Draco Malfoy was not stupid. He knew many of his non-Slytherin students would not accept him, would even be happy to see him dead. Yet he was hoping that there were also some who would help him, who would try to shelter him should he remain hidden. Again, that word, hope. It was such a feeble word. Just three years ago he wouldn't have considered not joining the Dark Lord's ranks, nor would he consider allowing other students to help him. But times had changed, he had changed. And he had no desire to rejoin that snake-like presence or his parents.

So he stood there, eyes switching between his parents, standing just behind the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord himself. He couldn't keep from trembling. He listened to the celebratory speech, listened to the invitation. Then he froze. The very air in his lungs seemed to solidify, keeping him from breathing.

His parents had found him. Their eyes were on him, and they spoke.

"Draco!" His father's voice rang out, quavering slightly. Lucius held his head high, but Draco could see the fear and the anxiety in his eyes even from here. Lucius tried to gesture, but he seemed to be shaking so hard it was more of a violent twitch. Then his mother spoke.

"Draco. Draco, come!" She smiled slightly at him, inviting him to join her and his father. He realized it wasn't so much a command to become a Death Eater once more, but a plea to return to his family. He knew his mother didn't care to join the ranks of Death Eaters either, but due to the fact that her husband was one, she was forced to join as well.

Draco trembled. He didn't move at first, willing his mind and his body to not move. He didn't want to walk forward, didn't want to join all those ruthless men and women. His eyes twitched back and forth, looking at his classmates around him out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't know what he expected. Did he think they would stand in front of him and protect him? Did he think they would push him away from them and into the arms of that ghastly and evil force?

Then his legs moved. His shoulders and head almost visibly drooped, but then his instinct for survival kicked in and he made himself stride forward, not showing any hesitation or fear. The Dark Lord embraced him, welcomed him, but he gave no reaction. Then he reached his mother—didn't even glance at his father—and grasped her hand. This was it. He had done it. There was no turning back. Draco Malfoy, who had not cried since that day in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, wanted so badly to cry, so badly to sink to his knees and give up. He wanted to be done.

**I apologize if it's rushed. The second part should be up soon, just transfer the idea in my head onto my computer. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so this is part two. I'm sorry it's taken so long to come, given its rather short length, but here it is. Part 2, AKA, what should have happened, what I have wanted to happen each of the three times I've seen the movie. It's sad, really. Anyway. **

**Oh, and please review! I've loved that y'all have added it to your favorite stories or story alerts, but reviews make me even happier! Thanks!**

Draco Malfoy stood there, surrounded by his classmates. Before this war, very few of them would have been considered his friends. Many would be considered beneath his notice, due to his pureblood status. A select few would be considered his enemies.

Before, he wouldn't have considered standing with them, facing the Dark Lord. Before, he wouldn't have considered defying his parents and staying with these people.

But that was before. This was now.

He and the rest of Hogwarts watched as the Dark Lord and his ranks made their way across the bridge and stood before the brave warriors. The hundreds of Death Eaters packed tightly into the limited space, stood behind their lord and leered at the wizards and witches opposing them. He could easily spot his parents, standing at the front of the crowd, just behind their master. And just behind him, slightly off to the side, stood the gameskeeper Hagrid, bound and held captive by two Death Eaters, with a suspicious bundle in his massive arms.

Draco could distinctly hear Weaselette—no, Ginny Weasley—demanding with a noticeable tremor to her voice what that bundle was, who it used to be. There was no answer, but he didn't need it. They knew who it was, and his heart sank. If it was true, and he was dead, then there really wasn't any hope left.

Then the Snake moved forward, and answered her question, confirmed Draco's fears. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the one hope for the Wizarding World, was dead. Draco had never liked Potter or been even remotely nice to him, but at this admission he wanted to fall to his knees and break down. If he was dead, they all were.

Then he heard the next part of the Dark Lord's—no, _Voldemort's_—speech. This was the cue for Draco to move forward, but he didn't. He didn't want to leave his fellow students, didn't want to join his parents, didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore. He wanted to be done.

Suddenly, he heard his father call to him nervously. "Draco!" In what was probably meant to be an inviting gesture, Lucius's arm twitched and his face quivered. Yet Draco stood where he was, unmoving. Then his mother called to him. "Draco, come." She smiled slightly at him, her maternal side showing itself slightly. He knew she cared more for having him back then appearances like his father, but he still couldn't convince himself to move forward. He wouldn't leave the safety of his "friends".

Then Voldemort spoke once more. "Draco, are you now so unwilling to join me once more? After all you've done for me, after all this time? You would stand with those mudbloods and blood traitors? You would oppose me?" His voice rasped out, barely concealing his rage. This was it; this meant certain death. There was no way Draco would be allowed to stand, to live, when he was now publicly defying who had once been his Master.

He couldn't help but tremble. He didn't want to die, but he'd rather die than rejoin the ranks of that dictator. His shoulders slumped when he saw the great wizard lift his arm and point his wand directly at Draco's chest. The white, lipless mouth opened, and—

"Protego!" Out of nowhere, he heard someone shout the spell, felt the quivering of the air as the shield formed between the two sides. The air was filled with murmurs as everyone looked around, trying to figure out who had gone out on a limb and protected Draco Malfoy. He looked around as well, shocked that someone had actually helped him. And then he stopped looking. Silver eyes met green eyes. Could it be? Had _he_ really helped Draco? The small smile and look of forgiveness on Neville Longbottom's face told him all he needed to know.

Neville took a step forward, pointing his wand at the opposing side, ready to fight. For one silent moment, nothing happened. Then, almost all at once, the other students around Draco joined Neville, taking a step forward and pointing their wands at Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Draco Malfoy had just been saved by Neville Longbottom.

**Ok, this didn't end how I had intended it to at all, but overall I'm rather pleased with it. I think given the irony of both Draco's teasing Neville and Bellatrix's torturing of his parents, this fits. But that's it! No more chapters, no sequels. I hope you enjoyed it. Review please!**


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